


bittersweet victory

by goldenkc



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18641296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenkc/pseuds/goldenkc
Summary: *8x03 spoilers*sansa's heart breaks in the aftermath of the battle of winterfell





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is really short but im really sad so here ya go

Everyone in the North takes a deep breath. 

Sansa runs out of the crypt and all the way to the Godswood where she hopes Bran still is. There he sits, surrounded by snow and ice dust. Arya stands beside him, a hand on his shoulder. 

“Did we win?” she asks in an exhale.

Arya nods, her dagger in her hand. “I think we did.”

“We lost a lot of people,” Bran says in a monotone voice like always.

Sansa pats her brother's shoulder and says, “Thank the Gods you're both alright.”

Arya waits a beat then begins, “Sansa--”

“Where's Theon?” she asks too quickly. She looks around the bodies of the people who volunteered to protect Bran then her eyes land on _him_.

She walks slowly to his body, his spear right through his torso. Arya walks up then, standing a few feet from her sister when she says, “Sansa, I'm sorry.” 

Arya knew of her sister's feelings toward the Greyjoy boy. When they all lived together, Sansa would complain about how annoying Ned Stark's ward was. Then when they reunited not long ago, Sansa told her of how Theon had saved her and brought her nearly all the way home. 

“He had to,” Bran says from beside the tree. “So we could win.”

Sansa's breath staggers as she takes a step back. She can't stop staring at his face. His eyes are closed. Other than the blood trail coming from his mouth, you'd almost think he was sleeping. 

“He died a good man. A hero,” Bran tells her.

She faces him now with anguish in her eyes. “You can see the future, Bran. You saw that happen, didn't you?”

He pauses. “Yes.”

Sansa can barely breathe. She doesn't say a word before she walks away. Once she's out of sight of her siblings, she leans against the castle walls and lets out a sob. 

She wipes at her eyes with the fur of her sleeves, but the tears keep coming. There was so much left unsaid between her and Theon, she can't bear to believe he's really gone.

“Sansa!” calls her sister from around the corner. She meets Sansa's eyes and doesn't say anything. She wraps her arms around the redhead and lets her cry into her shoulder. “I truly am sorry,” she whispers into her sister's hair.

Sansa backs up and runs her hands down her face, eyes red and puffy. She takes a shaky breath before she says, “I never got to tell him.”

“He knew,” Arya promises her.

Sansa nods. “I know he knew. He told me to tell him after we'd won. He said it would make the victory sweeter,” she says with a small smile as another teardrop falls.

Arya puts her hands on his sister's shoulders and tells her, “He did it for you--for us all. He protected Winterfell and stood up to the Night King. He was brave. And he saved everyone here. They’re alive because of him.”

Sansa's lip quivers as no words come out. She doesn't want to believe Theon left her in this place alone, but she knows he didn't do it willingly. Theon Greyjoy wanted to live out his old days with Sansa Stark by his side. But this was what had to happen so Sansa and everyone else in the country could live.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *a prologue*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cannot get them out of my head, but this is it :)

After their last supper of sorts, Sansa bids many people good night, gracefully as a lady should before a war this great. Theon watches the look in her eyes with every smile she forces. He watches her tell her people she'll see them again, but Theon notices the hint of fear in every promise.

Then she locks eyes with him, she gives him a small smile like the others before she promptly and far too quickly leaves the room. Theon knows this castle like the back of his hand--there's nowhere Sansa could go to cry alone because Theon knew all her favourite spots. 

She didn't really like being alone, and she admired that her father's ward gave her a shoulder to cry on more time than she could count when she was younger. He'd always sit beside her, sometimes murmur kind words, sometimes stay in silence. But he'd never tell anyone, which she appreciated deeply.

This time it's a hall that leads to a hall that leads to a corner no one visits. Sansa is leaning her shoulder against the wall with a hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs.

He walks up to her slowly. He says nothing as he stands beside her, looking at the adjacent wall. She moves those couple inches to bury her head in his neck. He instantly wraps his arms around her frame. 

Those are her people out there, people who will selflessly stand guard and may even give their lives protecting Winterfell. There are, of course, some lives she cannot bear without. One of whom she holds onto now.

She sniffles as she steps back. She wipes at a tear. "It's too much." He nods, understanding. She keeps his eyes. "I'm just so scared for..." she trails off in a whisper. 

Theon pauses. Sansa Stark is the strongest person he's ever met. The fact that she just admitted her fear tells Theon she's truly frightened, and the look she gave him when she spoke indicates just who she's referring to.

He takes a step forward slowly and takes hold of her hands. He does so as gently as possible, waiting any moment for Sansa to reject him. When she doesn't, he smiles softly, and says, "You don't need to worry about me, love." 

She takes a deep breath, blinking back tears before she holds tighter to his hands. "I have to tell you… before you go, you have to know--"

"I do," he murmurs, lightly brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. 

She shakes her head. "You couldn't possibly."

He sighs lightly, looking upon her face before he runs a finger to her cheek, pushing back a lock of red hair. "Tell me after we've won," he whispers. Then he grins, telling her, "It'll make the victory sweeter."

Sansa chuckles, a genuine smile coming to her lips. He can't stop looking at them, he never wants to stop looking at _her_. 

"I need to do something else then," she says lowly. She snakes her hand up his chest until she holds the side of his face. He exhales before she mutters, "Just in case."

Then she closes the space between them, moulding their mouths together. She's never kissed someone she's wanted to before. All the men before had ulterior motives. But not Theon. He only ever wanted the real Sansa. The loving young girl with hope in her eyes and daydreams in her mind. The young woman who grew up brutally yet never let anything change who she was at her core. 

Theon Greyjoy is helplessly in love with this Lady. And she can feel it in every movement of his lips on hers, the way his hands grasp at any part of her they can, the softest touches because even though he knows how strong she is, he's still worried she might break under his fingertips.

When she finally pulls back, Theon's eyes stay closed a moment longer, looking blissful. She bites her lip before she mutters, "That was--"

"A hell of a kiss, my Lady," he finishes for her. He takes one last look, trying to burn this contented expression of hers in his mind, it's what'll get him through the battle. Then he kisses her cheek, lips lingering a second. "I'll see you in the morning."

She nods happily. "You better."

**Author's Note:**

> hit kudos if you liked it :)


End file.
